


Familiar Strangers

by SttatusQuo



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-28 09:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8439751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SttatusQuo/pseuds/SttatusQuo
Summary: Someone had to clean out Lucy Jaggat's flat.





	1. Not Good With Blood

The door didn’t creak at all as the landlord opened it and they stepped inside. Dana dropped her bag to the side and flexed her hand. Pretty much everything she owned was in there, except for the computer bag that was still slung over her shoulder. The old man was so frail that she was afraid she would accidentally break him if she let him help too much. He had been very helpful-meeting her outside to let her in and give her the keys.

“Such a nice lady,” muttered the elderly landlord, “Gone too soon.” He set a key and a small card on the table. “Here are my numbers if you need me. The rent is paid for the next four months. “

Dana nodded as she stepped into the middle of plainly decorated lounge and looked around her late cousin’s flat. Her mother had called from the US with the news that some cousin of her father’s had been killed in a tragic accident when she was thrown from her car during a crash. “Typical,” she thought to herself, “This is just another one in a whole string of mysterious relatives that just seemed to turn up-usually with some sort of problem.” Except that this one was dead. Third cousin, Lucy, had been a locum hospitalist with the NHS. She moved from city to city and worked on contract at hospitals where there was a need. Most recently it had been in Bristol. There had been some question of foul play surrounding her death that her mother had been vague about, but the death itself had taken place in Wales so nobody knew anything.

The landlord was staring at her. “Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Archer,” she said awkwardly, feeling very awkward. “I appreciate what you’re doing- it’s just that I didn’t know Lucy Jaggat at all.”

“Just Archer, please” the elderly man smiled. “I know you may not realize, but there is a strong family resemblance between you. Her passport is on the table with the rest of her things from Wales. The similarity are remarkable. I did take the liberty of looking through them so that there wouldn’t be anything shocking.”

Dana nodded. “When do you need everything removed by? I don’t want to overstay, but if I can stay for a little while…” her voice trailed off. “My boyfriend…” The silence spoke volumes. 

Archer nodded. “You are fine for four months as the lease is paid until then. If you want to stay longer, we can talk about that later on. Right now you look like you need some rest and something warm.” The old man turned slowly and made his way out, closing the door with a soft click.

Dana looked around at her new digs for the next few weeks. The timing couldn’t have been better as far as she was concerned. Escaping to Bristol was the perfect excuse to get away from Marc, who’s drinking was getting uncomfortable to be around. It seemed like lately that he was either getting drunk or recovering from the last binge and the bright funny guy she knew from school had all but vanished. She had jumped at the chance to leave their apartment to go to England and settle the last of her cousin Lucy’s affairs. 

It was still spitting rain when she stepped outside. Before he left the landlord gave her directions to the local shopping. A quick check of the kitchen revealed that there was no milk or bread. Archer had cleared out the tiny refrigerator. Stacks of boxes waited in each room for things to be packed up and sent for sale or to the charity shops. That was Dana’s job to do- to pack up the life of someone she never met. Her boots clicked on the sidewalk as she made her way to the closest shop for milk and enough essentials to see her through for a little while.

On impulse, she bought a pack of cigarettes as she checked out with her small supply of groceries. The clerk looked startled when she set her basket on the counter. 

“Dr. Lucy!” he said, obviously startled.

“No,” Dana said “I’m her cousin Dana. From America.”

“You gave me a start,” the young man said with a blush and an awkward smile. “I’d heard... um… I guess you’re here because of what happened?”

Dana nodded. “I’m here to settle her belongings and affairs. I’ll be here a few weeks- or a while until that’s done.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Miss,” he said then added “I’m sorry for your loss, though. She was always very kind.”

Dana smiled and nodded. “I didn’t really know her. She’s part of the branch of my father’s family that I never met. I’m glad you remember her kindly.”

He counted back her change and stared at her one more time. “I have to say, Miss, that the resemblance between you is remarkable- except for the accent of course.”

At a loss for anything constructive to say, Dana could only smile and nod.

The bell on the door jingled as the door opened with another customer. Dana had the quick impression of tall, slender, and clad in black as she gathered up her things, took her change and headed out the door. The rain had picked up and she pulled her scarf up over her head. She could practically feel her hair curling up in the damp. Walking home she smiled at the neat rows of houses with their tidy fences. The last time she had been in England it had been spring and the gardens were in full bloom. Even if you couldn’t see them their fragrance added a magical touch to the air. This would be a good place to stay for a while until she decided what to do next. The relationship with Marc was over. His response to her telling him was to storm out of the house in a fit of temper. It made her sad but it was better than his shouting at her as she packed.

Across from her cousin’s apartment she stepped between two parked cars and looked to see if the way was clear. Stepping forward, she found herself yanked back as the car she hadn’t looked for to the right sped past, horn blaring. Dana dropped both bags in an attempt to stay upright, lost the battle with gravity, and fell against the car to her right. Pain shot through her as she landed hard against the metal grille, banging her hip and arm. Her savior helped her right herself just as the car alarm went off. It was deafening.  


Finding her feet and feeling a complete fool, Dana gritted her teeth and over at her savior, mouthing a quick “Thank you”. He nodded at her and then looked down at her feet where her belongings were scattered in the space between the cars. The bags were a total loss and there was no talking over the shrieking car alarm. Dana stooped down and began grabbing what she could carry and saw that the stranger was doing the same. Together they crossed the road to her door. She handed him what was in her right hand and fished in her jeans pocket for the key. He stayed on the door step as she ran in and set her load down on the kitchen table. Seeing him hovering there uncomfortably she went back and opened it wider as she reached out to take back some of her groceries. 

“Come in, come in,” she said. “I’ve forgotten my manners. You did just save my life. The least I can do is dry you off a bit and offer you some tea.”

“Thanks,” the stranger said, “It’s a good thing I was at hand. Americans get hit all the time here because they look left and not right before they cross.”

“I’m Dana,” she said as she extended her hand. He was Irish. She was certain of it. 

“Mitchell” he said as he shook hands and returned her smile with one of his own.

“Ow,” Dana yipped as the side of her hand stung on contact with the fingerless wool glove he wore. Snatching her hand back she looked at the cut that was bleeding sluggishly. “Oh great,” she sighed as she moved her arm to look at where she had fallen against the car. “Am I bleeding from anywhere else?”

She looked up to find herself alone in the kitchen. “Hello?” she called stepping into the front room. It was empty and the door was shut. Dana locked the door then went to check the bath and the bedroom. Mercifully empty. She hadn’t even heard the door close.

“Well that was certainly odd,” she said out loud. Locating the first aid kit in the kitchen, she cleaned the cut and applied a bandage. After that, she put the groceries away wondering about the stranger who had saved her.


	2. Chapter 2

Two blocks away Mitchell leaned against the side of a building. He had come back from Wales to try to find Daisy and make sure that all was well with her. He felt guilty that Ivan had been killed protecting him but knew that he was not the man to look after her long term. He wanted to make sure that if she was still in town that she was all right- he’d left town so fast when he realized that George and Annie were in danger that he hadn’t had time to let her know where he’d gone. After they got out of the facility they fled to Wales and there hadn’t been any way to contact her from there. He had looked for her for two days unsuccessfully and was about to leave town when a random urge sent him down Lucy’s former street.

He was stunned to see the woman emerging from Lucy’s apartment. He’d followed her at a distance, stalking her in the small shop and watched from the opposite side of the building as he heard her speaking with the clerk in the corner store. Her accent was American and on closer observation she was both taller and sturdier than Lucy had been. Still, the resemblance between them was uncanny. He could still smell the scent of her blood and raised the stained glove to his nose. Inhaling deeply, the magnitude of his losses over the past few months made him ache. Finding and then losing Josie all over again had been the first blow, Lauren’s death had torn him open further, and the magnitude of Lucy’s betrayal of their little family had been devastating. He couldn’t even bring himself to think about Annie. To do so was to be almost overcome with the urge to find Kemp and end that evil bastard’s life -even in the afterlife.

He was just too raw right now. Every turn of the corner in the city he’d called home for decades was just another memory to batter and bruise him. The urge to just lose the memories in a torrent of blood and violence to wipe the pain away was strong, but he had work to do. Nina and George were depending on him. There was also Annie to get back although he had fuck-all idea of how to do that. Tearing his gloves off, Mitchell tossed them into a nearby bin and walked quickly away- searching for Daisy. That at least was one relationship there could be closure with.

After her tea, Dana grabbed a bag and walked into Lucy’s bedroom. The red curtains and chair in the bedroom were a shade that was cheerful without being tawdry. First things first. Dana stripped the bed and went in search of clean linens. She turned the mattress over and re-made the bed. She found extra pillows in the closet and used those, carefully storing the others away. When that was done she took a chair from the kitchen and went to the dresser. With the exception of two beautiful new gowns with the tags still on them, all the personal items went into the bag. Dana worked methodically as she cleared the drawers of Lucy’s things, looking for papers or money that might be tucked among them. She removed each drawer and looked with a light into the interior to see if anything was hidden there. When she was done, Dana dragged her own bags into the room and put her things in the dresser. It was a territorial move on her part but it made her feel like she had space of her own to call home. She had missed that.

Her stomach growled and she went into the kitchen. Twenty minutes later she took her dinner of scrambled eggs and cheese toast to the table then went back to the counter to remove the tea bag from her tea. She had forgotten to get butter so she would have to go back to the store tomorrow. There was a dry erase board hanging from one of the walls. The writing on it was precise and looked to be a list of groceries for a nice dinner. It was next to the wine rack and Dana looked at the unfamiliar bottles of someone else’s taste in wine. Feeling a little guilty, she erased the writing and replaced it with the beginning of her own list. Without any reason she remembered her savior and almost-guest from earlier. If he shopped in the store maybe the clerk knew him. She would offer him the wine she knew was good but that she wouldn’t drink. She was done with alcohol for the foreseeable future. Just the smell of it on someone’s breath now made her sick.

After she had cleaned the kitchen, she went to the book shelves in the bedroom and looked at the selection. Cousin Lucy had been quite a reader. Medical books nestled against philosophy and religion. There were a large number of books on various supernatural topics. It was appalling how little fiction there was on the shelves. Dana wondered what Lucy had been like to not own at least one bodice-ripper of a romance novel. Finding the copy of Dracula on the shelf, Dana snatched it up and padded up to the front room. She had read it before but it seemed to be the only book in the house that wasn’t on religion, science, or cooking. Lucy hadn’t owned a television either and Dana was too tired to think about setting up her computer to check email.  
Skimming over the early pages, Dana settled into the book, it wasn’t so much the topic as the pattern of the words that soothed her. The sinfully comfortable sofa invited her to curl up and the late hour invited the woolen throw across her legs. Dana told herself as her head nodded that she would only close her eyes for a minute before she finished the section where Van Helsing was explaining what had happened to Lucy to her father and how he had discovered who the culprit was.

The next morning, Dana opened her eyes and blinked at the bright sunlight coming in the window. For a minute she was disoriented, and then she remembered where she was as she sat up with a groan. Yesterday’s fall rang in every joint in her body. Hauling her body to the bathroom she used the toilet then set the kettle on to boil while she jumped in the shower. There was shampoo there and clean towels. Easing into the white cotton robe she had left hanging on the back of the door after she unpacked, she wrapped her hair up in a towel and was back in the kitchen by the time the kettle went off. She worked steadily- clearing out and sorting Lucy’s belongings into what would be thrown away and what would be sold or given to charity. Three days later she was tired but had most of the work done. The charity shop had been grateful for the donation. Deciding she deserved a day off, Dana took her basket and went shopping. Milk, bread, and eggs went in along with butter, fresh herbs, and a chicken. She was standing by the cheese section trying to make a selection when she heard a voice say “Hello”.

Mitchell had tried to find Daisy for two more days. What he had found was activity at the old funeral parlor but no sign of vampires. Every night he made his way to Lucy’s old flat. He made it to the door once with his hand lifted to knock on the door and his resolve failed him. He’d called George and Nina to let them know he was well and would be back soon. In typically George fashion, his friend had offered to come get him and bring him back to the country. After decades in the city, the country was far too quiet for his taste and Mitchell couldn’t escape the feeling that something was up in the city and that there were vampires at the root of it. B. Edwards had had work crews there repairing the damage from the explosion. He hadn’t seen anyone he knew or noted any vampires about. Maybe humans were re-starting the business. Still, he worried.

Seeing her vanish into the shop had been irresistible and telling himself that it was a bad idea the whole time he followed her in. Following her around for a little while he had the opportunity to really observe her. They could have passed for twins, but Dana moved and spoke differently. Her hair was much longer and a slightly different shade of brown. Her eyes, as she started and looked over at him were the same rich brown.

“Mitchell,” she said a little more breathlessly than she meant to. Good heavens he was handsome up close. Her memory hadn’t failed her. “How are you?”

“I wanted to say sorry for the other day,” he said abruptly. “I’m not good with blood.”

“You probably saved my life- I didn’t get to say thank you before you left, “said Dana, “I’m glad you came back. I promise to try not to bleed on you this time.”

Mitchell tucked his hands in his jacket to keep them from shaking or even worse, embracing this stranger with the almost-familiar face.


	3. Secrets in the Kitchen

On the eighth day of her stay in Bristol, Dana found part of her cousin’s diary. Lucy had an impressive collection of cookbooks. Many were nearly new but there were several that showed some stains and use. Dana pulled them off the shelf and stacked them on the kitchen table. Intending to come up with a “keep” and “give” pile, she sat at the table and began to leaf through them. Halfway down the stack in one of the older books she found a a sheaf of pages filled with writing she had come to recognize as Lucy’s. Work stopped as she read page after page that had been tucked away in a cookbook. There was very little about her work. Most of her writing was about two men. One of the men she worked with and one of the men she was assigned to observe- clearly the man that she was observing was the one she was most interested in. Tucked into the pages was the photograph of an older man. He looked kindly but careworn. He was holding what looked to be a Bible in his left hand. On the back of the photograph was written simply “Kemp”. It was evident that she was devoted to him in the way that disciple would be to a mentor. She valued his opinions and often referred to his opinions in her journal.

The second man was referred to simply as “Subject”. Dana read her cousin’s difficult handwriting slowly and with increasing confidence as the topic shifted principally to the second man. They met at the hospital she worked in- apparently he worked there also. Lucy was attracted to him but clearly disapproved of him or at least what he had done.  
The passage that stopped her cold was about halfway through the pages:

 _What we know now is that the subject lives with two other supernatural beings: a ghost we believe is female and another male who is believed to be a werewolf…_  
Werewolf? Dana wanted to roll her eyes and laugh but the beginning of Lucy’s journal had been so serious and so honest that she had to try to accept what she was reading, even if she didn’t believe it.  
“Oh Cousin Lucy,” she breathed as she returned to the page “What on earth were you doing?”

_… Kemp has made contact with them and is excited by the fact that he may have more souls to save. Along with the other werewolf currently at the facility that we are hoping to help, I look forward to studying more of their unique biology during their transformations inside the chamber.  
I am surprised how strongly I find myself reacting to the Subject. At times he makes me almost completely unaware of the evil that I know resides within him. Still, I believe in his heart of hearts that he knows that what he is a creation of Satan and he should pass on to a natural state of death and whatever fate God has in store for him. I see him at work in the hospital and he seems diligent, sincere, and kind to those around him. I did read his medical file from when he was brought in with a stab wound to the chest a few months back- fascinating stuff. I pulled the copy entirely out of the hospital records department and took it to Kemp for further analysis to see if we can discover more. "_

There was a break of several days between one entry and the next in the journal which resumed

 _There is so much that has happened. There were several recent attacks by vampires on humans recently resulting in three fatalities. The subject has looked increasingly tense of late and I have not seen as much of him around the hospital. I have no reason to believe that he is the cause of the attacks and deaths lately but feel certain that he does know who is and it troubles him. Something shall have to be done, though; these bold attacks on innocent people cannot go unanswered. Kemp has located the place that they gather and my job now is to see what information I can gather so that this cancer among us can be excised and destroyed. To that end, I have taken the dangerous step of letting the subject know where I live and even invited him to be a guest in my home. God help me stay strong and safe. If he discovers my true purpose I fear that any affection he has for me will not be enough to save me._  


Dana sat at the table with the paper in her hands, almost afraid to continue. Clearly Cousin Lucy had been involved in … something. Setting the papers down deliberately, Dana put the kettle back on the stove and walked into the bedroom again. Suddenly things in the room made a little more sense. If Lucy believed in the supernatural and was trying to study people who believed that they were werewolves, ghosts, and heaven-knows-what-else… this was more a reference library than pleasure reading. That accounted for the three small jewelry boxes of identical crosses she had found in a drawer and Lucy’s mention of having taken one to a patient that had subsequently committed suicide. Who and what was this mysterious man that Lucy was so intrigued with?  
The kettle shrieked and she snapped out of her thoughtful reverie. Making her tea, she looked around the flat- she had a good bit of time left before she had to go. The place was growing on her but she wasn’t sure that the attraction wasn’t more than just the relaxation and freedom of not being around Marc any more. Tea in hand, she went back to the papers again. 

_God help me, he came here last night and I let him in. The subject was covered in blood that wasn’t his own and in such emotional pain that it wrung my heart to see it. He has confessed all to me and was surprised to find that I already knew about what he is. As I suspected, there are many more like him. He feels that he is somehow their protector as well as humanity’s. As If such beings actually deserve protection from the righteous and innocent people that they prey on! He likens their blood lust to an addiction -which I believe is true – and tells me that with help they can overcome the instinct to kill for blood if the right conditions are in place._  
_To my everlasting shame and probable damnation I was swayed by his Devil’s charm and took him to my bed last night. We made love and whilst he slept afterward I took Kemp’s weapon to the bed side but could not bring myself to end his life- the sweetness of our lovemaking swayed me. I should not have let sentiment sway my convictions to studying and eradicating this evil that walks the face of the earth._  
_We met later at a bar today and quarreled. He seems to think that he can somehow control the others but I doubt that he can. I have sought counsel and forgiveness of my sin in church and let God tell my conscience what my next step should be. My own lust has led me away from the path. I have slept with the devil and his skin was a cool as the grave and his hair smelt of other people’s blood- God help me but I loved it and even now the sin calls me to repeat it.  
_

“Holy cow,” breathed Dana as she took a sip of her tea as her belief in what was and wasn’t real shifted. The next entry made her blood run cold.

_It is done. My sin is not expunged but the vampires are no longer a threat to the innocents of this city any longer. He died in the blast. I heard the explosion that happened at my command. Kemp insisted that I be the one to say the words. Heart-broken, I cried afterward in the Ladies. I cannot work at the hospital any longer and will be going up to the facility for a while to work on the research for the werewolves. The moon will be full shortly and I need away from this place. I will not take these pages with me, should my papers fall into the wrong hands at the facility. They would consider what I have done unforgivable and cast me out. I have given my notice at the hospital and will return after this period of reflection and renewal to go to back to my own research into the genetic nature of evil. I am tortured by thoughts of the fire and explosion. I am told that close to thirty bodies were found there. I hope that it was over instantly for him and take comfort that he never knew who betrayed him in the end._

The last page wasn’t a page of the diary at all but a heavyweight white piece of paper that had been folded in half. Opening it, Dana found herself staring at a pencil sketch of her recent savior, Mitchell. Lucy had been quite an artist; she had captured the handsome face with its brooding intensity perfectly. It was half in profile and Dana knew that she was seeing an unguarded moment of his with someone he felt at ease with. At the bottom of the page was Lucy’s writing- John Mitchell 1892-1917.  
She grew cold all over. Lucy believed that Mitchell was a vampire. Hell, he probably was. Dana was both curious and afraid. If it was true, then he was truly a danger to her to be around, if he knew she knew what he was it might even be worse. "Shit," she muttered to herself. If she were smart she should be packing to get away. Except that she didn’t have any place she really felt right about escaping to. Back to the US meant going to her parents’ home again and having to endure their pained looks as well as the smug and knowing looks of her friends. They’d all thought she was cracked when she ran off to France months ago. She just wasn’t ready to face that big of a dose of “I told you so”. That settled it. No matter what he was, Mitchell seemed like a nice enough guy for the moment. He hadn't done anything except save her life. That he'd had a relationship with Cousin Lucy was weird and she tried not to dwell on that. There had been no hint of anything like that and frankly she wasn't ready for any relationships past friendship at this point. Still, she went into the bedroom to dig out one of the jewelry boxes and slip one of the crosses around her neck on a long chain. 

The days passed and she never ran into Mitchell again. After a week Dana told herself she was being silly and put the cross back in the box. She put the diary pages back into the cookbook and put it back on the shelf.  
Tired of her own cooking, Dana headed out to a small café she had discovered close to the house. She was just starting when she saw Mitchell start to walk past, lost in thought. Without thinking, she knocked on the window next to her, drawing frowns from some of the café-goers sitting nearby. He started and looked around until he saw her and waved. His smile seemed genuine and he came into the café. Dana indicated the chair opposite her “May I buy you a coffee or a meal? I haven’t said thank you properly for saving my life.”

“Just coffee,” he said with a smile, “and you’re welcome.”

“Do you live around here?” Dana asked. “You’re about the only person I know in town so far aside from the shopkeepers.”

“Nah, I’m just visiting,” he said nodding at the waiter who appeared. “Just black coffee, please.”

When the coffee arrived, he wrapped both hands around the mug. “So how is it going- this sorting through your cousin’s things?”

“Harder than I expected,” said Dana, “I didn’t know her and I keep getting glimpses of her life that give me impressions of her but I didn’t know who she was, really. Some things are obvious- like she was really smart but her personal life is a complete mystery. To tell you the truth, I feel like an intruder and it makes me a little uncomfortable.” 

“You going to eat those?” Mitchell asked pointing at the new potatoes she’d pushed to the side of her plate.  
“No,” she said, “Help yourself.”

Mitchell snagged a potato and bit into it. “I don’t get what it is with Americans and potatoes,” he said between bites, “Half the ones I meet never touch them.”

“Maybe it’s your Irish blood that makes you say that,” Dana chuckled. 

“Ha,” he said, licking the residual sauce off of his fingers, “It’s just because they aren’t chips. I don’t understand people who would turn up their nose at a potato because it wasn’t soaked in grease.”

“Or covered in catsup,” she laughed.

“Exactly,” he said with a smile. “You American sorts don’t know what’s good for you.”

“Do so,” snorted Dana with a mock huff, “Which is why I am going for a walk to burn off the potatoes I *did* eat before you got here." 

Mitchell's lips pulled up in a smile and as she left she found him keeping pace with her as she walked toward the canal bridge. She liked to stand there and watch the boats, imagining a different life of high adventure until reality intruded. Some of her sole peaceful moments of the last few months had been spent watching the Seine flow under her feet. Mitchell had slipped on his sunglasses and lit a cigarette as they walked toward the bridge. Occasionally their elbows brushed which Mitchell didn't seem to notice but raised Dana's pulse rate slightly as she grappled with if and how she could say what she had learned about his secret. It was tempting to just say nothing and wait but patience had never been one of her better qualities. They stopped half way over the foot bridge. Dana to lean her elbows on the bridge and watch the scenery; Mitchell leaned back against the bridge to watch the people and lit another cigarette. Neither of them had spoken aloud since the restaurant. "You're the quietest American I've ever met," Mitchell muttered as he leaned back on the bridge, his elbow planted solidly against Dana's. Dana's lips curved up in a smile as she tried to decide what she would do next. The silence stretched out.

"You're not walking," Mitchell said, his eyes on the few pedestrians around them on the bridge.

"Shut up," Dana said, "I'm enjoying the view."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would benefit from beta reading but I don't have one so you're stuck.


End file.
